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The Red Handed



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The Red Handed

You Are Dead

Tonight's the night I'll watch you fall asleep
Piece by piece I'll carve you up so carefully

And all those times that he thought this out
He never knew, could not expect the type of person he found
This is gonna be, this is gonna be, the night.

All we are are pawns in a jealous game, are we not?
This is all for you and your foolish ways, what you got?

Watch the blood flow from empty hallways
Pray to Hell that there is something better than this
Reap what you sow while you are falling
Look into his eyes pretend he doesn't exist

And as he carries his severed head
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Across one hundred forest miles to the grave that he dug
'This is gonna be, this is gonna be, your hole'

All we are are pawns in a jealous game, are we not?
This is all for you and your foolish ways, what you got?

Underneath the pale moonlight
I'll watch your body rot all night

You are dead, your blood is on my hands.
And I'm not sorry.

I'm not sorry.
I'm sorry.